Poker Face
by ShadowHeartofFaith
Summary: "You must have forgotten that Eames was going to be here or you neglected to tell me, Cobb. What the Hell?" After the Fischer job, an old friend joins the new team but will she and Eames be able to stand each other? E/OC. A/A.
1. Under the Sheets

**Poker Face**

**Prologue-Under the Sheets**

**ShadowHeartofFaith**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inception. Christopher Nolan does. I am not making any profit from this story. I do, however, own my OCs.**

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><p>His skin shone with a thin sheen of sweat, his broad chest heaving as his lungs greedily sucked in the oxygen they so desperately craved. Tremors shot up his spine, the cold feeling that the nerves brought filling up the pit of his stomach. Propping himself up on his elbows, his head began to pound with the after-effects of last night's extracurricular activities and a smoldering hangover.<p>

A soft sound to his left reminded him that he was not alone. Glancing to the side he saw the sleeping outline of the tipsy trophy that had eagerly followed him back to the hotel room. He rolled his eyes. She hadn't been a challenge at all, just something to satiate his hunger. A strange feeling of guilt unfurled within his stomach like a tongue of flame. He had never felt _guilty_, of all things, after his late nights of chaotic play and destruction. Why all of the sudden?

_Ah, yes, _he thought to himself. _Her. _

She stared back at him with an exotic fire lighting up her nearly acidic eyes, her brunette locks fluttering as the wind blew. Throwing an arm out into the darkness, he felt around the bedside table for his totem. His fingertips skimmed over it, taking in every detail, before he brought it into the cage of his fist, holding on tightly. Letting out a shaken sigh of relief, he slid from the bed, the sheets warm and wrinkled from where his body had lain.

The woman in the bed was blonde. Not the green-eyed brunette that still haunted his every dream, prowling through his subconscious as a projection of the woman she represented. She seemed to stalk about him like an animal did its prey, her eyes hungry and filled with motives he dared not place. She tormented him and, nearly three years later, he pined for her with his existence but could never hope to obtain her. He'd begun digging the hole that separated them until it had yawned into a great divide.

Bending down to retrieve his trousers, he tugged them on, placing his totem into his pocket. Shrugging the printed button-down over his shoulders, his calloused hands moved to adjust his collar before he did up the buttons over his chest. Feeling the familiar weight of the blue poker chip and the folded letter in his pocket, he straightened up, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

Moving towards the door, he glanced back at the drunken, sated woman. She had rolled onto her side, smiling pleasantly in his direction. He squinted his stormy eyes to see through the dark and after a moment of deliberation, decided she was still asleep. He turned away at the sight, that same pang of guilt from his gut traveling up to resonate through his chest.

He favored blondes because he had little to compare with the chestnut curls he had loved to run his fingers through. He favored dark eyes that could not even begin to outshine the blazing jade pair that he had fallen for at first sight. He favored women that had little substance and even less to speak of because no one had ever beaten him at his own game of wits aside from her. No one had a more wild imagination than she did.

He often wondered where she was, what she was doing, if she ever wonder about him in return. _Bet she's got a steady bloke,_ he muttered internally as he crept from the hotel room. _Someone who gives her everything I never could manage. _He faltered a step as he strode down the hallway as realization struck him. Every night that he spent picking up tipsy trophies to end his cravings with his dazzling smiles and charming parlor tricks, she was with this man that he had imagined up for her.

Jamming his hands into his pockets, he watched as the elevator door slid shut before him. He was surprised by his intense bitterness. He was a Forger. He never stayed in one place for long, it was in his nature to lie and brag. He was a vagabond with many faces and a reckless nature and love for discord. He didn't settle, he moved on. He didn't stop, he took breaks. He couldn't afford to stop. People like him were an odd commodity in his line of work. In the world of dream-sharing, extracting, and inception. His stormy eyes watched from beneath hooded lids as the numbers on the panel lit up with a dull sort of gleam as the elevator took him down lower.

He had just woken up and he already needed a drink. This woman-_his_ woman-was relentless and ruthless. She was his infatuation, his most coveted dream, and his worst bloody nightmare. Running his hand through his disheveled hair and back down over his face, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Dammit, woman", he grumbled angrily. "What have you done to me?"

The ding of the hotel elevator brought him back from his thoughts. The door sliding back, he stepped out onto the polished tile. Strolling through the lobby, he winked at the bubbly girl at the desk that he had checked in with two nights ago. She grinned, her perfect white teeth showing when she caught sight of him. That alien sensation ignited within his abdomen once again making him cringe.

Slipping through the growing throng of people milling and out of the architectural beauty, he shoved his way out of the five-star building and out onto the crowded streets. Rummaging in his coat pocket, he retrieved his lighter. Smiling around the cigarette that dangled from his lips, he mused on about how simple it was to find something of comfort. A strong drink, death sticks, the company of a woman. But nothing could compare to that one woman. And no drink or amount of smoke could ever even begin to compete with the constant thrill of dream-sharing and forgery. It was a wonder getting to wear another's face for a day, use their voice, conform to their tendencies. He had shelves littered with folded up masks of the human beings he impersonated and sometimes he feared that he would lose himself to his cons but the thrill was too great to pass up. It was like a drug. So dangerous and any one job could be the last, a single forge could be the end of him, but he needed it. It intoxicated him.

His trouser pocket began to vibrate only a second before an obnoxious ringing sound reached his ears. Puffing out a smoky breath, he took the device from his pocket. Only six people had his personal number. His old team and his mother-much to his displeasure. Flipping it open, he mumbled, "'Ello?" into the receiver.

"Eames!" the voice on the other end of the line exclaimed. "How are you? I can't believe it's been five months already! Where've you been?"

The British man chuckled. "Oh, I've been here and there, darling. What about you? Been in contact with my dearest Arthur?"

"I've been alright. I went back to Paris for a while and I _have _been in contact with Arthur, thank you very much!" Her voice sounded so indignant and he could picture, perfectly, the face she made when she was annoyed. How her eyes would narrow slightly and her nose would scrunch up just a bit. "But you'll never guess where I am now!" she continued, her words jumbled with her haste.

"Where are you, Ariadne?" he asked lowly to humor her.

"I'm in L.A.!" the young architect nearly screamed over the phone. Eames had to hold the device away from his ear and force himself to keep from cringing. "Cobb's house is so beautiful!"

"L.A.? Cobb? Are you calling me about work, love? Or have you realized I am a much more intriguing alternative to that stick-in-the-mud that you adore?" Eames played on teasingly.

She giggled. "Oh, you know how much I want you, Eames."

"I've known, pet. I've known." He sighed theatrically. "Oh, the distance that separates us!"

Breaking the act out of her excitement, she carried on. "When can you be here? Yusuf and Saito are flying in next week. And Cobb won't tell me anything when I ask him about it _but_ I overheard him talking to Arthur and we have a new teammate."

"Eavesdropping?"

"Of course not!" Ariadne argued.

"You would never do such a thing, would you, my cheeky monkey?"

She scoffed in response. He could picture her face again. Her guarded posture.

He chuckled again, a deep sound that reverberated through his broad chest. "I'll be on the next flight out, Ari. Tell Arthur darling not to miss me too much", he teased, his reward being another amused laugh from the architect.

"I'll see you soon then, _Mr. _Eames."

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><p><strong>AN: This is my first Inception fanfiction. I started it a few months ago and lost my spark with all the craziness of college. I'm on vacation now so I have some spare time to pick up where I left off. I tried my best to keep the Inception characters as in character as possible. Criticism and reviews would be greatly appreciated.**


	2. Disillusionment of Waking

**Poker Face**

**Chapter One-Disillusionment of Waking**

**ShadowHeartofFaith**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inception. It belongs to Christopher Nolan. I do own my own team though, which includes Aribelle, Auron, Marcus, and Elric Damen.**

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><p>"The dream's collapsing!"<p>

I stood back in awe, eyes wild with excitement. Windowpanes shattered, doors crumbled down upon their hinges, walls turned to dust before me. Bursts of color, the sharp crack of glass, the booming chaos of splintering wood and foundations being forced in half. It all played out like a symphony of destruction. The entire dismantling of structures and a well thought-out façade of reality. This was what I had come to call the disillusionment of waking.

The dream came unraveled like a cheaply woven blanket as the Mark came to. This had been a simple extraction procedure with far too many risks stapled to it in disarray. A jealous wife who had wanted to know what her husband was _really _up to after hours in his office. The man in question owned a large corporation that was struggling to meet the demands of the fast-pace business world and was steadily losing himself to his work. Unfortunately, there was another twist that our Point Man had not found in his research. One simple fact that had changed the entire job.

This Mark was mentally unstable.

The shards of color that were revealing themselves to me were dizzying as they fell through slivers that ran through the once-blue sky and over the horizon. Wordless screams and shouts of horrible rage overtook me as they drew closer. The projections. They flooded across the horizon like a horde of ants.

I couldn't help the nauseas twists of my stomach. Even after six years in my profession, alert and angered projections still made me extremely nervous. Taking a step back, I raised my gun to my temple. The barrel pressed, cold, against my skin as I waited. I wanted to see their faces.

"Aribelle!"

My eyes darted across the eroding dreamscape. A shape flickered in the distance, my breath catching in my throat as my lungs sealed up tight. He couldn't be here. He was unmistakable even standing a few hundred feet away-

Oxygen flooded back through me, filling up my distressed lungs. My body bolted upright as the pain in my skull began to subside. Ripping the IV from my arm, I distanced myself from the PASIV. Drawing my hand through my tangle of dark hair, I turned my glare to Marcus. "What the Hell was that?" I hissed from between clenched teeth. The Point Man was busying himself was packing away the machine. "How could you miss _that _in your research?" I jerked a hand toward our still snoozing Mark. "You're a _Point Man _for God's sake! This is _your _responsibility!"

Marcus turned his head to glower at me. "Why don't you give it a try then, _Gambit?_" he spat.

I narrowed my eyes, viridian gaze flashing dangerously. My angered reply was building against my lips as I took a step forward.

"Aribelle, Marcus, let's _go_." Auron stood at the threshold of the cabin. The young Forger's eyes darted back and forth anxiously as we filed out of the elegant suite with the PASIV hidden between us.

"I get off in Rome", I said firmly, snatching Auron's arm.

"What?" he exclaimed incredulously. "You can't be serious, Aribelle."

"I'll take a flight to Paris", I continued as if I hadn't heard him. "Before you contact me again, Auron, make sure you have a better plan for your step-in Architect and that your Point Man knows how to do his job." I released his arm, shoving past him while Marcus fumbled with the brief case. Glancing back at the two, I added, "And tell Mr. Damen that this job was a waste of my time. And his."

"Are Gambits always so bossy?" Marcus mumbled once he believed I was out of earshot.

Auron chuckled. "Nah. Just that one. Come on, let's blend in. I'll buy you a drink."

Turning the corner sharply, I dispelled the nagging thoughts from my mind. Taking the elevator down to my deck, I slipped into the cabin. Yanking open drawers and ripping hangers down from the tiny closet, I dumped everything onto the bed, brushing the folded towels and mints to the side. Folding up my clothes and scouring the room once more, I jammed all of my belongings down into my bag.

Out of habit, my totem was in my hand while I checked reality. Gazing down at the depiction of the sparrow before a rising sun, I let out a sigh. I was awake. But that meant that the rogue projection had, in fact, killed me. Shoving the medallion back down into my pocket, I rounded my shoulders.

That was one Hell of a dream. The only disappointment being that I was not prepared due to Marcus's lack of research. And Auron, as much as he enjoyed Forging, was not the best partner for a Gambit. His mannerisms were wild and unkempt. He was too young and wasn't trained enough to know how to hold his own in the dream world.

Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, my eyes roamed across the cabin once more while I checked off inventory in my mind, my right hand clenched within the confines of my pocket. Stealing away down the hall, my fingers skimmed across the creased folds of the familiar piece of paper that was stuffed down beneath my totem.

The incident from the dream kept replaying over and over again before me like a short film. The projections swarming through the collapse of the dream's structure, his thick voice, the lead penetrating the space between my eyes as I faded.

Someone cleared their throat behind me.

My shoulders stiffened, my body going rigid as it did when I was stolen from my thoughts. "Hello, Elric", I grumbled. "Marcus tattle on me already?"

"Something like that", Mr. Damen intoned, seemingly unfazed by the fact that I was not facing him or making eye contact. "Though, I was more surprised with what Auron added to me once Marcus had gone. That this job was a waste of my time. And yours?"

I glanced back at him, sighing. He had a black brow raised at me. I tittered slightly at the smoldering light in his eyes. "Look, Damen-"

He raised a hand to stop me as I turned, in defeat, to face him. "That's not why I'm stopping you, Miss Seelie. You've been a wonderful teammate and you're the absolute best at what you do. And I've been in this business for quite a few years. What I would like to inquire about is why you still take jobs with this team."

I opened my mouth, my words flitting away before pressing my lips back together again.

"You do realize that Auron is not by any means a well-trained Forger and not suited to be a partner, do you not? The money cannot be worth your frustration. There _are _better teams. So why accept our job-placements?"

A sudden feeling of anxiety flooded through me and I was quite unwilling to show it. "It is good money. And I'm not sure if you've looked into other Gambits before but most Extractors don't like to work with people with my…er, _skills_. Gambits don't get work."

"There _are _better Extractors, Aribelle", the man reminded me, his tone reflecting his exasperation. "So why do you stay? Honestly?"

Lowering my gaze down to my feet, I traced the lines of my scuffed up shoes, the fraying laces. Anything to escape Elric Damen's piercing eyes. My voice came out in a hardly audible mumble. "It's the only way I can still dream."

Damen smiled wryly. "Alright then. Well, Miss Seelie, I feel that I should inform you that I received a call from a former colleague of yours earlier this afternoon. He called with the intention of seeking permission to utilize your very unique talents."

"May I ask who it was?"

"A Mr. Dominic Cobb." He smiled meaningfully at the mention of the other Extractor. "He specifically asked for you and I gave him my word that I would personally relay his request to you. It seemed to be of great importance when we spoke so perhaps you should give him a call. I offered to take his number down but he insisted that you already had it."

I nodded absently, already making another list. "Contact me once you have a new Point Man and a better Architect."

Damen chuckled. "Scout out this assignment with Mr. Cobb first. You may have a new team, Aribelle. A permanent one."

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you so so so much to ****, h2ofan, and Lee Mayfair ****for the reviews! These are my first ever reviews on and I really appreciate it! I'm very encouraged by the comments and the interest in the story. I reached my hopeful goal of 3 reviews. So here is the legit first chapter where my OC comes into play. I hope you enjoy her and enjoy this chapter as much as the last! Thanks again. **

**-ShadowHeart**


	3. Alias

**Poker Face**

**Chapter Two-Alias**

**ShadowHeartofFaith**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inception. Christopher Nolan does. I am not making any profit from this story. I do, however, own my OCs.**

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><p>"So you got my message?"<p>

"One would think."

"Cynical as ever, aren't you, Aribelle?" his voice chuckled over the phone line. "It's good to finally hear from you. Elric filled me in on your current situation. I didn't realize how far you'd…progressed."

Drawing my knees up to my chest, I rolled that thought around. It was undeniable now. I couldn't dream without a sedative. I was becoming a dream-junkie all over again. My job was like a drug to me. A fix that I craved constantly. "Yeah", I sighed. "I wouldn't worry about it too much."

"It doesn't bother you?" Cobb sounded less surprised than I had first anticipated.

"Nah. I can finally sleep after a job considering I'm not sick."

"Still not the world's best traveler, huh?"

"Of course not. But I know you're calling about something other than checking up on me like a good daddy should, Dom", I pressed, itching with apprehension and a tingling sense of excitement.

He laughed again. "Ever persistent. I missed your enthusiasm. But you're right." His tone dropped slightly as he continued. "I have a proposition for you. A job in need of a Gambit."

"Now you have my attention", I praised. "I'm listening." Dropping my legs back down, I settled into my seat, watching the door to the compartment. "I'm assuming you have a first-rate team, Dom. What do I have to work with?"

"I'll give you the specifics when you get here. Arthur will pick you up from the airport."

"Arthur?" I repeated in a daze, my earlier excitement rising to a peak. No more useless mistakes or lacking research. No more unrealistic dreamscapes or misconstruction. No more flawed masks and wily mannerisms. I would be working with Dom Cobb and _Arthur_! Two of the best in the business. The very men who introduced me to dream-sharing.

"You'll be working with some familiar faces. But I have a steady Chemist and a new Architect-"

"Any good?"

"She's the best."

"Better than you?" I jested, shifting the phone against my cheek.

"And more", Cobb assured me.

I hummed in response, biting back the question that I _really _wanted to ask. That I _always _wanted to ask when I was working with a different team.

"James! Phillipa! Come inside, please!"

I giggled behind my hand, listening intently as Cobb entered father mode. "Go take care of your kiddos", I insisted. "I'll be in Los Angeles soon enough to drive you mad with my endless questions."

"I'll hold you to that", Cobb returned. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye, _dad_." The line went dead and I was stuffing my cell phone back down into my pocket with my totem and that ancient letter. This was a dream come true, no pun intended on my part. Cobb had started my career in dream-sharing nearly seven years ago. He was like a father to me in nearly every sense of the word. Much like how Mal had been a motherly figure to me before she'd…_passed_. Arthur and I had nearly as much history. The Point Man hadn't been out of school much longer than I had when he and Cobb had recruited me.

That had been around the same time that I'd moved to London and distanced myself from my hectic family. I hadn't seen my parents in nearly three years and I hadn't heard from them for over six months. They both had busy and demanding-and _legal_-careers that were blossoming back home. My siblings had all dispersed not long ago.

My oldest sister, Florence, had married her high school sweetheart and moved to New York City to begin her life. My older brother, Nate, had gone to Africa to do work in the missions field. My younger siblings, Odette and Benjamin, had left home just months ago to study abroad. None of them knew what I did for a living and _never _would if I had anything to do with it.

That conversation would have gone well over Thanksgiving dinner. "Oh, yes. I have a job. It's not the most steady out of the few that I've held but the money is good and I get to travel quite a bit! What do I do, mom? Well, I'm a counselor for the troubled subconscious of the person that the rest of my team is conning. Yes, conning. I steal valuable information from the minds of brilliant and deeply troubled people across the world. I live out of hotel rooms and party my nights away with the drunken masses."

My father's jaw would probably descend into his mountain of mashed potatoes while my mother toppled from her chair and onto the floor. Florence would insist that I see a counselor of my own and Nate would ask me how much time I was spending with the Lord. Odette and Benjamin would, more than likely, be speechless. I flinched. Better they stayed in the dark and away from the maddening complexities of my life.

"Is this seat taken?"

The voice drew me from the disturbing images of my family. Glancing up at the figure out of the corner of my eye, I shook my head, reaching for the book that laid atop my bag. Skimming through the pages, searching for my place, I let out a sigh. _This is too good to last_, I grumbled to myself. Fishing around in my pocket, I retrieved my totem before flipping the medallion.

"Lucky charm?"

My fingers curled inwards, shielding the heavy coin from view. My eyes rose to the man who had seated himself in my compartment. He had dark hair and muddy eyes that were fixed on me in an almost suggesting way. He smiled when I met his curious stare evenly. I nodded with a slight shrug before returning it to my pocket. "Yes", I said meekly, my voice an octave higher than it was normally. "Family thing."

"Ah. Do you not like to travel or something?"

I shook my head, forcing a giggle from my lips. "No, I love to travel", I lied. "But I'm away on a business trip. I just miss my family." _God, he's rude. Prying like that. Some small talk._

"A pretty thing like you? I thought you'd be on holiday." He leaned forward, extending his hand to me. "I'm Daniel."

I took his hand lightly, shaking quickly. "I'm Isabella. You can call me Bella", I supplied.

"Well, _Bella_", he smirked. "Where ya headed?"

"London", I answered quickly. "Important meeting with the company, you know the sort, I'm sure."

"Sounds quite demanding. Do you have some free time before your flight? Because if you do, I'd love to treat you to some coffee at the airport", he put in smoothly. His eyes strayed from my face, moving downwards.

Forcing myself to keep my palms pressed against my thighs, I continued with my lie. "I don't think my fiancé would be too agreeable with that sort of engagement of my time." I waved my left hand, the ring catching the light. Very rarely did I resort to the ring trick but this guy was a bit too persistent for my liking.

"Fiancé", he mumbled. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you were taken."

I nodded simply, staring at the array of diamonds that adorned my ring finger just a moment longer.

"I bet he's a lucky guy", Daniel continued when I didn't.

Unable to stop myself, I let loose another giggle. "Oh, I think I'm the lucky one." Inside I was gagging at the horribly garish disposition that this alias of mine had. Isabella Verone was meant to run opposite of me in nearly aspect of my life. If I were ever followed, she was my best bet at staying free.

"Oh?"

"He's very sweet and so charming", I sighed dreamily and I could feel my eyes clouding over with that far-off look that I'd seen other women take to. "I miss him very much." _This guy is so creepy. If only he knew I was lying. _

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><p><strong>AN: I apologize for the crazy long wait on this chapter. Life has been keeping me insanely busy with work and friends coming into and leaving the state. I am so so sorry for leaving you all hanging. I'll make it up to you by giving you two chapters on this update while I work on finishing the loose ends on the next chapter. I hope you like it!**

**And thank you to h2ofan, Echo101, and Lee Mayfair for the lovely reviews! They are very much appreciated.**


	4. The Second Act

**Poker Face**

**Chapter Three-The Second Act**

**ShadowHeartofFaith**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inception. Christopher Nolan does. I am not making any profit from this story. I do, however, own my OCs.**

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><p>Slinging my carry-on over my shoulder, I joined the throngs of people milling away from the baggage claim to enter the terminal. Men and women were embracing, men in suits walked purposefully towards their awaiting drivers, mothers were chasing after their children. It was the same overly-emotional picture that I was greeted with every time I stepped down from a plane.<p>

Grinding my back teeth together, I continued past the lingering sea of people that chattered away. Their voices blended into an unintelligible soundtrack akin to white noise. My old colleague stood a careful distance from the wall, his dark hair slicked back and away from his angled face, his three-piece suit was pressed and perfect against his frame, his brown eyes calculating.

He straightened up when his eyes landed on my approaching figure. "Your flight was late", he observed, taking me in briefly.

Rolling my eyes, I offered, "Hello to you too, Arthur." Brushing a few flyaway strands of dark hair away from my face, I really took a look at Arthur for the first time in over a year. "You look…happy. What brought on this new development?"

The Point Man reached forward, tugging my backpack from my grasp. "I'll explain everything when we get home, sweetheart."

I cocked a thin brow at him but played along, holding his arm as we ambled through the airport. I babbled about job placements and figures, all the while answering while Arthur called me Isabella. Someone had to have been watching or my old friend wouldn't have bothered with the almost amateur role-play and he most certainly would not have pulled out my dusty old alias. Coincidentally, the same that I had used earlier that day.

Breaking away from the crowds, he led me out to, what I assumed to be, his rental car. He placed my carry-on in the trunk before opening my door for me. "So why was your flight nearly twenty minutes late?"

"What, did I ruin your hot date or something, Arthur?" I prodded, sliding into the passenger seat. Chancing a look at his stoic face, I sighed, rolling my eyes. "The train was delayed and their was fog rolling in near Paris. I didn't realize everything fell so behind. Satisfied?"

Arthur nodded once, my door slamming shut as he circled the car to slide in behind the wheel.

"So tell me about your new-found happiness", I pressed with a smirk on my face as he started the car.

He let out a heavy breath in resignation. "It's nothing official", he began slowly. "Her name's Ariadne. She's Cobb's new Architect."

"The one from the Fischer job? Cobb told me that she's better than he ever was. Three dream levels is impressive. How old is she?"

"Twenty-two."

"Woah, Arthur. She's young."

"Not much younger than you", he defended, keeping his eyes focused ahead of him. We moved out of the busy city that was even more alive at night than during the day. The neon signs dotting the way called to me.

"I'm twenty-eight", I deadpanned, shooting him a hard look. "Hardly twenty and nearly thirty are very _very _different."

"What about you? Anyone new in _your _life?"

"Very cute, redirecting the spotlight back to me. I thought we were past these juvenile jabs at indecency in the other _colleague's _life."

"Apparently not. And we've got a few more minutes in traffic until we get to Cobb's. So answer the question, Aribelle."

"You've never shown interest before", I shot back, my fingers fiddling with a loose piece of my hair. A nervous habit I'd taken to as a child.

"I noticed the ring."

"It was from my previous engagement. No other man could compete", I replied softly, my eyes trailing down my arm to the shimmering rock resting coolly on my finger.

"You've been coping, then?"

"It's been over two years."

"Time isn't an object of absolution in matters of the heart."

"Because you know so much about that", I scoffed, leaning my head against the window, watching as the world around me sped past in a blur. Truth be told, _coping _wasn't the word I would have used. I carried his last letter to me around like an I.D., he entered my shared dreams as a projection with a mission, I had a weathered picture of the two of us folded up in my wallet. No, I wasn't past that chapter of my life but God only knew that it was over me.

That man had been, and was to this day, an actor, a conman, and a skilled liar. The truest embodiment of Loki that ever existed. And I'd fallen for his dazzling parlor tricks. "I don't know sometimes, Arthur."

The Point Man glanced sidelong at me, the glowing blue lights from the dash casting shadows across his face. "You loved him", he stated simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "It's normal, what you're feeling."

"I hate him but I'm not sure if I could say _no _if I saw him again. Do you know how that feels?" I questioned, that broken memory of _his _projection entering my last job only to shoot me through the head playing over and over again.

"Not the way you do", Arthur consented. "How've your jobs with Elric Damen been coming along?"

I groaned, letting my head roll back against the seat again. "Don't get me started."

Arthur chuckled, a rare sound. "That bad?"

"And _worse_."

The car made its last turn out of the city, passing the last of elegant shops and busy hotels and towering skyscrapers. The bright numbers on the dashboard read **10:56p.m. **Arthur maneuvered the sleek black car out of the bustle of the city and along the line of coastal beauty of Los Angeles' beaches.

My excitement was rising as the architectural beauty of the Cobb's abode came into view. Finally I'd be able to work with a first-rate team again. Why Cobb needed a Gambit like me for a job, I still wasn't quite sure, but he'd assured me an excellent Forger. And though my ecstatic pleasure was thundering in my chest beside my heart, a nagging little piece of me did not want to know exactly who it was that Cobb had recruited to assist me.

The car pulled up into the vacant driveway. The pavement was decorated with colorful chalk drawings which brought a smile to my face as I exited the rental. Arthur retrieved my bag, coming to my side while my eyes took in the entirety of the house in awe. Surely it was Cobb's design. A gift to his family. "Are you coming?" the Point Man called as he neared the heavy doors.

I slammed the car door shut, jogging to catch up. _Reunite with the team, eat, take a shower. Lord, I am dying for a hot shower._ I stood beside Arthur, bouncing on the balls of my feet anxiously. His knuckles rapped against the wood of the door.

"Well, look who's finally back! Arthur, darling, Ariadne and I have missed you terribly."

The booming sound of a playful voice stopped my thrumming heart. I raised my head slowly, my eyes tracing over the broad figure before me appraisingly. Scuffed shoes, dark trousers, hideous print shirt, unshaven face, stormy eyes, chestnut locks slicked back. My favorite dream and most horrible nightmare.

"Eames", I breathed, blood rushing to color my cheeks.

His own jaw slackened for a moment, his mouth hanging open as he took me in. Mr. Eames, struck silent for possibly the first time in his life. "_Aribelle_."

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><p><strong>AN: As promised, a second chapter for my making you lovely readers wait. I hope you enjoy it. I know the tension is building. I hope I'm holding your interest now. Enjoy! And I must apologize again for the delay on this update.**


	5. Fever

**Poker Face**

**Chapter Four-Fever**

**ShadowHeartofFaith**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Inception. Christopher Nolan does. I am not making any profit from this story. I do, however, own my OCs.**

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><p>"You must have forgotten that Eames was going to be here or you <em>neglected <em>to tell me, Cobb. What the Hell?"

The Extractor sighed, a hand running through his now-disheveled sandy blonde hair. "I didn't tell him that you were coming either. I knew that if I mentioned it that neither of you would come." He fixed me with a stare, sucking at his teeth for a moment. "You two are the best. I've never seen a Forger and a Gambit compliment each other so well, Aribelle. I need both of you for this job."

My jade eyes strayed down to my plate as I digested his words. "He won't want to work with me."

"What makes you say that?"

"I left him, Dom. God knows he forced my hand but I did." Blowing my hair away from my eyes, I leaned back in my seat. "I guess it's true what they say about keeping pleasure and the workplace separated. A bit too late but I am learning."

"Aribelle." Cobb laid a hand on my shoulder in that paternal way of his. He was still so much like a father to me. Calling to check up on me, making sure I was taken care of, asking me to play nicely with the other kids. Philippa had the perfect daddy and, for that, I envied her. "He's a mess, Belle. He's _been _a mess."

"If you mean his shirt-"

"I _mean _he's a train-wreck."

"Sleeping with anything with breasts and a pulse? Drinking himself silly? Pissing away everything he earns with that _bloody _poker chip? That's your definition of a train-wreck?" I grumbled, my voice growing louder and louder. Eames was a prime example of a perfectly successful man turned asshole. "Cobb, he started that monstrosity of a transformation when we were still together. Why should he change back? It's a force of habit now."

The older man had a sympathetic expression plastered to his face. "We all learn from reconciliation. Give it a chance."

"Give what a chance?" I groaned, running a hand down my face.

"_This_. If there's one thing that you should have learned from this line of work, and from me, is how to keep an open mind."

I mumbled in compliance, jabbing at my chicken. Heaving a sigh, I consented. "Fine. I'll talk if he does. Satisfied?"

Cobb cracked a smile. "If you are."

"Oh, I am", I quipped.

The Extractor stood, placing his hands on the tabletop. "Well, you know where everything is. Arthur already put your things in the guest room. Make yourself at home." Leaning down, he pecked my cheek. "Good night, Belle."

"'Night, Cobb", I said softly as he strode from the room.

My stomach turned, my food no longer seeming desirable. Sliding my plate away, I caught sight of the glittering of light that was trapped within the ring. He'd bantered back and forth with Arthur for a moment before retreating back up the stairs, never once meeting my eyes. Two years hadn't blunted any of the tension that yawned between us.

I jumped at the sudden sound of the refrigerator opening. A slight girl with dark hair was rummaging around the shelves, murmuring to herself about something. Her sweat pants were rolled up around her knees and her wrinkled T-shirt and frizzy hair were a testament to her restless night of sleep. She moaned in exhausted frustration which brought a smirk to tug at my lips.

"Top shelf, behind the orange juice", I suggested nonchalantly before turning to examine my fingernails that were bitten down to the quick.

The girl stiffened. Turning to face me fully, her lips turned down in a poorly-masked frown. "I'm sorry", she began, rubbing at her eyes. "I thought I was the only one still awake. I'm Ariadne-"

"Arthur's girlfriend. The Architect", I acknowledged.

She dipped her head once, moving away from the fridge. "So you're the new team member?"

"Aribelle Seelie, at your service", I offered with a flourish of my hand. "Gambit Extraordinaire." My last words were bitten out with an edge of bitterness.

"Gambit?" she yawned.

I nodded slowly, taking in her rumpled appearance once more. She was young. I'd been about her age when I'd been introduced to the world of dream-sharing but my first attempt at inception hadn't been until three years later. What she'd done at the age of a mere twenty-two was nothing to sneeze at. "It's a distraction of sorts. They're best used on Marks that have been trained to withstand extractors. A mind that's been militarized. The idea of a Gambit is to turn the Mark against their own subconscious. It's not an exact science so it's a bit of a gamble when someone tries to use one-"

"Like Cobb?" Ariadne asked, rubbing at her eyes again. "Arthur isn't too fond of Mr. Charles."

"How did that go with the Fischer job?"

The Parisian girl blinked, clearly confused.

"Arthur and Cobb are old friends of mine", I offered in assistance. "We keep in touch. I've been in this business a few years."

"Cobb did mention that you were a _contact _of his", she consented thoughtfully. "Arthur didn't say much."

"He never does", I chuckled. "Unless, of course, something conflicts with his overly-compulsive planning. On those occasions, it's as if the man swallowed a dictionary."

Ariadne smiled. "Well, he likes specificity." She giggled once like it were a joke. And for all I knew, it may have been. I was the new outsider without Auron and Damen on my side. "But it proved flawless on the Fischer job. He didn't suspect a thing, we even had him on our team on the third level."

"He helped you break into his own subconscious? _That _is clever."

Gathering my plate, I took it over to the sink, glancing at the glowing numbers over the stove. **12:42**. I was not going to be able to sleep tonight and the entire house was so quiet. Ariadne was toying with a pen at the table, her shoulders slumped. "You should try and get back to sleep", I intoned. "Knowing Dom, he'll have us up and working by eight."

The younger girl nodded, sliding her chair back. She yawned behind a pale hand. "It was nice meeting you. Good night."

"'Night." I watched as she turned, padding back out of the kitchen and down the hallway. "Nice girl. I guess Arthur knows what he's doing after all", I mumbled to myself, scrubbing at the plate until I was satisfied with the gleam reflecting off of the china's surface.

My fists knotted into the dish towel that was abandoned beside the sink. Blowing out a breath, I contemplated what to do with myself for another seven hours. Sleep was out of my reach, that was apparent by the thrumming of my heart that seemed to echo throughout my entire body.

My hand slid down the wall as I moved out of the kitchen, the lights dimming down behind me in response. My bare feet slapped against the wood flooring as I meandered through the all-but-silent house.

The silver glow caught my eye as I entered the living room. Beneath the glass-inlaid coffee table sat the PASIV case.

_Now, they say we only use a fraction of our brain's true potential. That's when we're awake. When we're asleep, our mind can do almost anything._ Cobb's words resounded through my mind, tempting me. _I didn't realize how far you'd…progressed._

Crouching down, I pulled the offensive machine out to sit before me. Lifting the case open, I stared down at the intricacy of the mechanisms. It had hardly been forty-eight hours since I'd last seen one. Since we'd failed our last assignment on that damned cruise ship. Since my projection of Eames had shot me through the head, releasing me from the collapse of the dream. But I couldn't dream on my own.

Snaking out one of the cords, I inserted the IV into my left wrist, the fingers of my right hand fiddling with the timer. Leaning back against the plush couch, I let my mind go cloudy before I pressed down on the sedative release. My eyelids fluttered shut while I breathed in, everything going dark around me.

"_Aribelle?" The heavy sound of footfalls reached my ears as I opened my eyes. _

_The room that surrounded me was familiar but not instantly identifiable. I pushed myself up, feeling the rumpled sheets bunch up beneath my hands. The curtains were drawn, blocking out any light from the windows and leaving the room masked with dim shadows. _

"_Darling, are you home?"_

_My heart jumped up into my throat. I'd gone down the rabbit hole on this one. I was back in our old flat in London. _

"_Are you feeling any better, love?" _

_His muscled form filled the doorway, his dark hair damp from the rainy weather. He was loosening his tie from around his neck as he watched me with an amused smile on his face. _

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><p><strong>AN: I'm so sorry for the wait! Work has been insane and I've picked up a second part-time job for the summer so many hours are spent in the workplace and my Inception inspiration was lost for a bit but has returned! I was seriously stunned by all of the reviews and favorites that I recieved for the last chapter. I'm sorry that the cliffhanger was so terrible but I hope it made you curious. I hope you enjoy this chapter too and can stay patient with me just a bit longer.**

**h2ofan-You are amazing. Thank you for the review and I'm glad you love the story so much!**

**ameliamarie15-Thank you! I try very hard to keep characters true to who they are during a fanfiction. I appreciate the review.**

**Lee Mayfair-I love your enthusiasm! I hope the slight meeting was fun to read. And his face would have been priceless, I agree.**

**ofthewood-Thank you for the compliment on my writing style! It makes me really happy. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**DamonSalvatorelover-I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**Wild Cat 94-I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far.**

**And thank you to everyone who added Poker Face to a watch or favorited. It means so much to me to have this kind of feedback!**


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